Monday, March 31, 2008
  Please ensure that your seat, tray table, and nipple rings are in their upright and locked positions...
Ok, what's more amazing about this story (btw, it's the basis for the title of the post...): the woman on the right; the display model; the actions of TSA agents; or the fact Gloria Allred is involved.
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Looking to lower your work productivity level by about 75%? Enjoy this site.
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Was doing my normal Friday lunch - the Fiesta Friday - and moseyed on up to Caliente. It's a local burrito stop that serves it up hot, fresh and fast.

Those three tenets are explained as much in the Caliente "mission statement."

Wow. A burrito joint with a mission. Now that's progressive thinking, with a side of refried and rice.
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There's been a lot of scuttlebutt about the Lebron James cover photo on Vogue magazine (see left).

Bryan Burwell of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch decried its inherent racism on ESPN's The Sports Reporters. So have others, who liken James to "King Kong" and his covermate Gisele Bundchen as "Fay Wray." In a column at ESPN.com, Jemele Hill called the cover “memorable for all the wrong reasons.”

I'm sorry, but that's just sad. I'd like to think that we, as a society which is closing in on electing a Black man to the White House, has moved on from this sort of stereotyping and racism. The cover photo is a combination of two of the World's most desirable people. A superstar athlete and a superstar model. That's it.

Lebron was quoted about the non-issue: “Everything my name is on is going to be criticized in a good way or bad way. Who cares what anyone says?”

Precisely.

I watch Lebron play basketball on a regular basis, or I see the highlights of his talents on SportsCenter. My typical reaction is: "man, I want to be Lebron James." (but you don't want to be Lebron, you want to be BETTER.)

Furthermore, when I saw the Vogue cover, my reaction was slightly more than typical: "man, now I really want to be Lebron James."
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Chelsea Clinton, by my observation, is a very intelligent young woman who has successfully balanced having a "normal" upbringing, despite paying dearly for growing up in that great white house.

It's no secret - I'm not the world's biggest Hillary supporter. Throughout her push for the democratic nomination, she has utilized famous former President husband as well as her daughter stumping on her behalf on the campaign trail.

Bill Clinton was a popular President and remains as such - if not even more popular. And Chelsea, perhaps due to her lack of public persona, has a draw of her own.

Now, we all know the Clinton's, um, issues. All of their (read: Bill's) dirty laundry over the years has been aired out. And by dirty laundry, I don't just mean a spooge stain on a dress...but it's part of it.

As a public persona - and if you're campaigning on someone's behalf for the office of the President, you're public - you're open to some scrutiny.

Over the last week or so, Chelsea - on a campus barnstorming Q&A tour - has been taking questions her reaction and her family's reaction to the 500 lb. intern in the room (for the record, that was more of a play on the popular idiom and not a physical characteristic of Monica Lewinsky).

I'm torn on this. First off, if you're some college know-it-all little puke who thinks you're savvy and slick by asking someone what their reaction was when reading all about her dad getting blown in the office in your house, then you need to really check yourself. Seriously, tase him, bro.

And kudos for Chelsea for keeping it together as much as possible. I'm not sure MSNBC would be able to air my response if I were here.

But to me, the bigger issue isn't the ignorance of the college-aged kid who sees his 15 seconds of YouTube fame. It's Mom & Dad.

Or their press aide geniuses. You had to know she would be subjected to this kind of crap questioning. I mean, hell, it's politics 24-7-365...eventually, you run out of actual issues to talk about. Or at the very least, it's depressing.

But if you ask me who is at fault - the puke-and-pimple college kid or the second-place candidate - it's not even close (and no cigar...boo-hiss, I know).

It takes a village to raise a child and just one village idiot to humiliate that child. Bad call, Mom.
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that's all for tonight. Coming up tomorrow: TLBR's Final Four preview.
IIWII,
 
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
  1:19 of your life you'll never get back.
Apologies ahead of time.



(if that wasn't lovely enough for you, click here)

IIWII
 
  Wow. What happened with that?
I had a conversation tonight and the fine gentlemen on the other side of the table reminded me that I was "turning like, 40" in June (not true.)

And it's really not fair. Because it's March and Wakefield Liquors is only selling Samuel Adams Summer Ale right now (and despite it just turning into Spring, it doesn't make me a bad person to drink like 100 Sam Summers).

But since I'm shampooing "old," I thought back to when I was like in 8th grade. And 9th grade. You know, the good ole days. (yeah, you know those days...don't you?)

And I thought that music was the world. I mean, the Joshua Tree. U2 wasn't quite saving the world then, but in 1987, they sang of the seven towers and the one way out. Not that a 12-13 year old kid could quite throw his arms around the world (that was for Achtung Baby), let alone heroin addiction...

But THE band - I mean - the squad that was absolutely rocking out for me in my "formative years" was INXS. And it's crazy to think how that band, um, broke up.

For my money, the best album for the 1980's was "Kick." Shampoo "Thriller" and that shampooing pedo. Forget "What has five arms and sucks" Def Leppard. Heck, put away the Robert Palmer - even though my man might be one of the most underrated recording artists of our lifetime.

"Kick" had everything. Trust me...for a kid with chores, it was the absolute perfect cassette tape/soundtrack to vacuum the stairs of Stately TLBR Manor.

Here's a video from, arguably, the best track off the album:





Onto a bit of business before I turn in:

1. A great friend and TLBR forefather sent a text tonight that, quite frankly, meant the world to me: "Good to have you back." And in so many ways, my wise friend is right. He's like a little tiny buddha, covered in hair. Most of all, it's good to know that longtime TLBR'ers are so willing to jump back onboard after I've let them down for so long.

2. I think I've figured out the secret behind iPod karma: I only have a certain type of music these days. Perhaps I'm "old" as one lad might think. But when I ask the little 20GB gizmo to "take me home" (100 Sam Summers, remember?), the technological wiz never fails.

3. "Seth Cohen is a tool!" Ah, the OC. I remember the night that Coldplay debuted their new song, "Fix You" on the Fox super-show.

It was moving. Like hearing The Beatles White Album for the first time, albeit, sans Yoko and que Gwyneth.

But it's a terrific song.

"But if you never try, you'll never know just what you're worth..."

Good night Conanicut.

IIWII,
 
Sunday, March 23, 2008
  So What Have We Learned?
Welcome to the Sweet 16. Not my "Super-Sweet 16," from MTV...or even "super sweet" from Eric Cartman.

The field of 65 is now at 16. And thanks to the good folks at Cox, I've watched every game so far. All 49 of them.

Here are 10 things I've learned:
1. Stephen Curry was under-recruited. And he can shoot. He can flat-out shampoo on you if you give him a screen and a foot or so. Kind of a novel concept, don't you think? Hey, we have a three-point shooter...let's get him open...no, wait, let's...

Sorry. Woo-sah...woo-sah...woo-sah...

2. North Carolina is pretty deep. I still haven't figured out how they're going to blow it, but they will.

3. Memphis will not win the national title, either. And if you're within eight points with 3:00 to go, start fouling.

4. When Bob Huggins gets "his recruits" to Morgantown, look out.

5. If I was an AD (and if you're looking for one, I'll be glad to forward my CV) at a "big-time school," and I had an opening and seemingly a blank check, I'd hire Jay Wright. Or, at the very least, his tailor.

6. Just finished "The Miracle of St. Anthony." Trying to figure out who was more remarkable: Bob Hurley or Adrian Wojnarowski. It's a dead heat.

7. Who looks younger, Stephen Curry or Butler coach Brad Stevens?

8. Heartbreaking loss to Stanford by the former rent provider...but a frontcourt like the Lopez twins is awfully hard to beat.

9. Ok, I'm starting to "get" the love for Kevin Love.

10. With a bounce here, a stop there, and a few solid possessions in between, Sean Miller and Xavier could be playing in San Antonio.
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Ok, that's it for now. Looks like some free time has opened up on the horizon, so that might just mean some good old-fashioned blogging.

Not to mention the Belize Blog, coming up from April 16-30. It's like the distant cousin of the Oz Blog - the progenator of this here website.

Stay tuned and welcome back. Sort of.

IIWII,
 
Saturday, March 08, 2008
  An Absolute Miracle
Bryce Drew did it.

Of course, that happened in 1998. Three years later, in 2001, Ole Miss had another upstart mid-major with less than 3,000 students chasing them down...until a referee who shall remain nameless threw his whistle into the stands of the Kemper Arena.

 
Friday, March 07, 2008
  We're Gonna Be a While
For the record, the greatest dunk and subsequent greatest call by the greatest color man in the biz was a charge.

Wave off the basket. Quinton Burton had position.

 
Thursday, March 06, 2008
  Mopa Njila Doesn't Want to go Home
I'm always a big fan of teams with a backcourt comprised of a kid from God's Country and a kid from Cameroon.

Sorry all youse Cuse fans out there. TJ's shot might be your Buckner.



(clarification: Sorrentine did not hit that from the parking lot of the DCU Center. He hit it from Rt. 290, on the way to Auburn.)
 
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
  He's been double-teamed all year.
In order to get properly prepared for Championship Week, the next few days I'll be posting some videos (because that's what lazy-assed bloggers like me do...just post video and pretend it's a real post...)

I think Gerry McNamara was a great college player. Some folks don't agree with that sentiment. Jim Boeheim doesn't agree with those people.



Best part of this video? The follow-up question.
 
A daily - or every-other-day - account of all there is in my head
that's dying to get out, via my fingers.
(I vow to attack this endeavor with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind.)

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